


Life With You

by Leafshadow2



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-13 21:43:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13579503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leafshadow2/pseuds/Leafshadow2
Summary: Funny thing about life, it never quite goes as planned. Luckily, Kakashi and Sakura found anchors in one another. Kakashi comforts Sakura after she's haunted by nightmares. The two reflect back on when Sakura was in a relationship with Sasuke. Kakashi discovers where his true home is. The two are sent on separate missions (collection of one-shots)





	1. Sleepless Nights With You

**Author's Note:**

> Here is my first attempt at writing a kakasaku pairing. I wrote it a little over half a year ago and posted it elsewhere, but decided to go ahead and post it here as well. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Kakashi woke during the night to the sound of whimpers, and for once they weren’t coming from him. Blearily he opened his eyes, thinking he was on the battlefield. Instead, he saw the familiar water stain that graced his bedroom ceiling, something he had been meaning to fix for a while. Realization struck and he became fully awake, twisting in the bed sheets. “Sakura,” he said gently, purposely removing any trace of panic from his voice.

“Can’t fix this…I can’t…too much blood!” she cried out.

Repeating her name, he reached for her. The second that his hand met her shoulder, she reflexively began to attack him, a possible enemy in her confusion. Anticipating this, Kakashi carefully, but firmly, restrained her by the wrists before she could seriously injure him. “It’s me,” he whispered into her ear.

He released his hold on her as soon as she recognized him, so he could draw her closer. Sakura buried her face in his chest, and he could feel some of the tension leave her body as she burrowed further into him. A warm dampness greeted the fabric of his shirt. “Kashi, I couldn’t save them,” she sobbed, wracked by tremors.

His heart, which he would have claimed to not be in the possession of in the not too distant past, shattered at the anguish in her voice. “I know.” He stroked her back slowly, trying to impart any soothing that he could. Letting his hand slip underneath his black shirt that she had worn to bed, he traced the delicate protuberances of her spine. “All we can do is protect those that still need us. As long as there’s a tomorrow, there will be people that need you to be strong for them. You’re the strongest person that I know, but tomorrow isn’t here yet. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Sakura had since stilled, her sobs quieted. Inhaling deeply, she breathed in the scent of him, something that she had once claimed to find comforting. The faintest trace of a smile made its way across Kakashi’s lips as he took in the sight before him. The soft moonlight that managed to come through the window curtains fell upon Sakura. Her pale pink hair seemed to glow, as if it represented all that was innocent and good in the world. As if it had not born witness to the dark stain of war and pain.

She pulled back slightly out of his embrace, trailing a finger up and down his chest. They remained like that for a few moments, lying on their sides, simply taking in the quiet moment. Sakura eventually met his worried gaze with her own tear-swollen eyes. “I guess that I should be more concerned if I’m suddenly not bothered by…everything that’s happened,” she gave a short, mirthless laugh.

Tenderly brushing hair off her face, he pressed a barely-there kiss to her lips. No mask was between them. “It’s an unfortunate burden that we bear,” he remarked about those who had chosen the path of the shinobi.

He could have told her that everything would turn out right in the end. He could have told her that there was nothing to be afraid of, that she was safe now. But they had long since promised to always be honest with one another. Which was why she hadn’t lied and claimed that she had only been dreaming.

The worst part was that they weren’t merely dreams. They were memories. When reality was more horrifying than any nightmare conjured up by an overactive imagination could hope to be…well, it took its toll. It was what war did. No one was left completely unscathed. Those that survived still left pieces of themselves behind, dead and buried beside the loved ones they had lost or complete strangers that they had seen suffer.

Sighing, Sakura curled up against him. Kakashi wrapped her in his arms again, pulling her closer. One hand was nestled between her waist and the bed, while the other cradled the back of her head. “I’m glad that you’re here,” her sweet voice whispered into the dark.

The silver haired ninja replied truthfully, “I am, too.”

He thought back to what she had asked of him the first time this happened while he spent the night with her.

_Hold me. Please just hold me._

Back then it had struck something deep within him, the realization that such a strong, intelligent, and caring woman periodically woke up alone and screaming when remembrances invaded her sleep. That she woke up the same way that he often did. Kakashi had silently vowed to himself then and there to fulfill her request as often as he humanly could. He hated the thought that she experienced the same feelings of loneliness and hopelessness that he did.

However, he hadn’t expected the utter relief and joy that he felt when he roused in her arms, soothing murmurs in his ear coming from the voice he adored so much. Hadn’t counted on the comfort that he found in the light, floral scent of her shampoo as he tried to banish thoughts of bloodshed to the back of his mind.

Drawn out of his reverie, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I love you,” he murmured before playing with the silky strands of her hair.

“I love you, too.”

Kakashi smiled, truly smiled this time. Her words made knowing that they would eventually awaken some night from now in a similar manner—likely with Sakura holding him as he fell apart—more bearable.

 

 

 

 


	2. How Lucky I Feel With You

Sakura quickly snatched up her keys before rushing out of the apartment. She was running behind schedule, but didn’t want to be late for her training session with Kakashi. Then again…

_It’s not like he’ll actually be there on time._

She rolled her eyes, filled with amused exasperation. Some things never changed. They might love one another and even live together, but Kakashi still didn’t believe in being timely, even for her. Hell, he’d probably be late for the birth of his own child. Eyes widening, Sakura quickened her pace, wondering where that thought had come from.

An involuntary smile surfaced as she thought of Kakashi. It was hard to believe how happy she was, most of which was due to him. She never would have expected life to turn out this way, but she had no complaints. Especially when she thought back to when Sasuke and her had dated in the past.

Back then, Sasuke would come back to Konoha occasionally, albeit only briefly. She had treasured those visits. Yet, that was all they ever were: visits. Sakura could always tell when he became agitated, uncomfortable with not being able to wander. Oh, they had tried to hide it. Sasuke would pretend to enjoy the relatively peaceful lull of everyday life in the village, and Sakura would act as if her smile wasn’t just a façade to hide her heartbrokenness at his desire to leave.

She gave him everything of herself, but it still wasn’t enough. _She_ wasn’t enough. At least not enough to convince him stay, nor to make him happy. Then again, she’d be surprised if Sasuke could ever truly be happy. He seemed content to wallow in his own dissatisfaction with his lot in life. In short, he enjoyed being unhappy.

Little by little, it wore her down. Every time he left without word, escaping the domesticity that he found claustrophobic, another piece of her broke inside. Eventually the brilliant flame within her seemed to die out, and the enthusiasm for life seemed to dim from her eyes as well. The internally shattered way she felt seemed to be reflected in her outward appearance. Her face, once full of color, grew wan even as the shadows under her eyes grew. She lost weight from lack of appetite. Even the vibrant pink shade of her hair seemed to grow dull.

Concerned, her friends—especially Naruto—tried to help. They would show up at her doorstep with groceries, claiming that they had gotten more than they could possibly use thanks to a sale. The produce would simply sit untouched in her fridge, wilting. Lovingly, they would force her on outings, all in the name of the health benefits that sunshine claimed. She still went to work at the hospital, but it—like other everyday tasks—was something she did almost mechanically, deriving no joy. She simply went through the motions day after day.

No one and nothing seemed to have much of an effect. No one except for Kakashi, that was. For some inexplicable reason, she felt alive again when the silver-haired shinobi was near. It wasn’t due to attraction or any sense of romantic attachment on her part, for that wouldn’t come until much later. Rather, they just seemed to be in tune with one another, as if nothing had changed from the days when they were on a team together. They could spend a day reading in companionable silence, alternating who rested their head in the other’s lap. The two could go without speaking a single word, but they still understood what went unspoken perfectly.

Other times he would show up armed with inane stories. He had bribed her into eating meals he’d brought by telling her of the antics in exchange for her eating the food. Kakashi was the only one that could bring a genuine smile to her face, and he made it his mission to ensure that at least one graced her features every day that he was in the village. Slowly, the smiles came more easily and the light returned to her eyes. She realized how lucky she was to have Kakashi in her life.

Sakura eventually came to her final conclusion in regards to herself and Sasuke. They both needed something that the other couldn’t provide. She knew that a relationship would never work out between them, so she abandoned what had begun as a childish infatuation with him, deciding to simply care for him as a friend. Sakura had managed to send him a note containing just eight words: _things aren’t working out, we both deserve better._

She had felt as if an enormous burden had been removed from her shoulders. For the first time in longer than she cared to admit, it finally felt as if though the future was full of possibilities.

* * *

 

Kakashi purposefully meandered aimlessly, face buried in a worn copy of _Icha Icha Paradise_ , until he could arrive at the training grounds in an appropriately late fashion. Despite his refusal to meet her on time, he was pleased to be seeing Sakura later, even if it had only been a few hours since he had last seen her. She seemed to have the unique ability to make him sincerely happy. It was as if he had spent his life missing something, not realizing until she had truly entered his life that all along there had been a Sakura-sized hole in his existence.

Kakashi couldn’t recall the exact moment that his feelings towards her had changed. He had been her sensei initially, and had thought of her as his student for the longest time. In fact, he had still thought of her as a child even long after she had entered adulthood. The war had changed all of that. She’d ceased to be his student when she had transitioned to being his teammate. That camaraderie had developed into a genuine friendship.

He learned to respect her considerable skill and competency as a kunoichi and especially as a medical-nin. Kakashi admired her considerable strength, both physical and mental. While working together, they had seamlessly fallen into an effortless rhythm of teamwork. It was almost as if they knew what the other was thinking at any given moment. He appreciated the stability that her presence created for him. Sakura was the source of a calm, warm affection in a sea of chaos. It provided the anchor that he never knew he craved. No, she was the anchor that he had unknowingly needed all his life.

Somewhere along the way he had been struck by the realization that Sakura was a woman, and an incredibly attractive one at that. In the rare moments that she would longingly speak of Sasuke, the one-sided conversations often punctuated with her heavy sighs, he grew sullen and agitated. He experienced the unfamiliar, and all together unwelcome emotion of jealousy, simply replying with monosyllabic words before swiftly escaping to sulk alone. Back then the concept of Sakura together with Sasuke was theoretical, something imaginary that he could ignore deep in the recesses of his mind.

All of that changed after the war, during Sasuke’s occasional—yet still too frequent, in Kakashi’s silent option—returns to Konoha. Kakashi could still remember the first time he had accidentally intruded upon one of their more intimate moments. A sinking, cold feeling had slammed uncomfortably into the pit of his stomach as he glimpsed Sakura’s dazed look and the slight blush coloring her cheeks when she had glanced at him in surprise.  He had stammered an apology before beating a hasty retreat. The memory of her kiss-swollen lips had haunted for days—he refused to think about them engaging in anything further than what he had unfortunately borne witness to—even as he wished that he had been the one to cause her mussed appearance. He hated himself a little more each time these thoughts invaded his mind.

_This shouldn’t hurt,_ he had vehemently told himself.

But it did. God, did it hurt.

He silently grew to resent Sasuke, angered at the _boy’s_ blindness to the precious gift that he had been granted in the form of Sakura. This turned into carefully concealed fury when Sasuke’s selfishness took its toll on Sakura. He couldn’t stand the way she looked during those times, as if she was defeated. But he knew Sakura, perhaps even better than she knew herself, and that it was only a matter of time before her fire returned twofold. He resolved to help her find the way back to herself.

And she did.

Despite his own regard for her, he never thought that she would view him in a similar light. He was jaded, with more than his fair share of major screw-ups in life. In addition to him being filled with regret and loss, there was the fourteen-year age gap. War, however, had seemed to strip that last concern away, as it rapidly aged all of the young, surviving shinobi beyond their time. It made them all realize how fleeting life was. That the only thing that mattered at the end of the day was that you were with the one you cared about.

* * *

 

After twenty-two and a half minutes past when he had told Sakura he would meet her, Kakashi strolled onto the training ground. “It’s about time,” he heard her playfully scold.

He quirked a brow above the orange edge of his book, “oh, I thought that I was early?”

“That,” she rolled her eyes, laughing, “is a word that should never be used in the same sentence as your name unless it’s preceded by _never_.”

A grin grew, hidden, behind his mask. The eye crinkle that his girlfriend claimed to adore also made its appearance. Staring at her smiling countenance, he could feel himself getting lost in the jade depths of her eyes. He must have done something decent with his life in order to have her in it.  

_Yep, guess I lucked out._

 


	3. Home Is With You

Sighing heavily, he stared at the beetle as it crawled in the sink. Kakashi couldn’t seem to summon up he energy to remove it, or even care about its presence. A feeling of emptiness seemed to consume him. Gripping either side of the porcelain with his hands, he looked at the mirror and the reflection gazing back at him. He winced at the overly bright, almost painful, fluorescent light from the bulbs above. Mask around his neck, shadows under his eyes and a too stern expression on his lips greeted him. Faint creases lined his eyes, and not nearly enough laugh lines were present around his mouth. He looked…tired.

_Maybe it was a mistake to come here._

The loneliness that had once been a constant companion struck with a vengeance. The silence of his apartment was deafening. Kakashi looked around at the white tile and porcelain. Outside the bathroom, barren walls and plain carpet waited, all in shades of additional white. It felt as if though the small, almost sterile, confines of his apartment were closing in on him. He’d been living here for more years than he cared to remember, yet…

_That thing probably feels more at home here than I ever did,_ he thought, glancing back at the beetle still wandering about.

He felt the overwhelming urge to escape from the oppressive and overpowering white that surrounded him. Mind made up, he fixed his mask and switched off the light with an echoing _snap_. He headed out into the night, heedless of the storm raging on. Seemingly oblivious to the torrent of rain, he walked through the deserted streets for several minutes before reaching his destination.

Easily opening the locked window—they should probably look into a more secure locking mechanism—he dropped into the pitch-black bedroom, lightening occasionally illuminating its contents. In mere seconds, Sakura woke up, the kunai that was kept under her pillow in hand and ready to be thrown at any would be assailants. Seeing him, she visibly relaxed. “Kakashi?”

“Yo,” he greeted blandly, greedily taking in her mussed appearance.

“Can’t you use a door like a normal person,” she grumbled affectionately, clambering out of bed. “You’ll end up sick at this rate,” came her rebuke as she took in his soaked figure.

“Good thing my favorite mednin puts up with me, then.”

Tugging down the damp mask to reveal his grin, she tenderly cupped his rain-chilled face. “Good thing she does,” she agreed, pressing a light and all too brief kiss to his lips.

She continued stripping him of his wet clothes, even as it dripped, creating a small puddle on the floor. He took in the familiar sight of her bedroom. Numerous photos hung on the walls. Kakashi’s favorite was a picture of the two of them happily reading his _Icha Icha_ collection, Sakura sitting in his lap, under the shade of a tree. Curtains, a vase of flowers on the desk, along with the comforter spread on the bed provided additional splashes of color. It was a vivid, but welcome, contrast to his own stark apartment. Hers felt lived in. It felt like home.

Sakura tossed the rest of his clothing to the floor in a sodden pile before leading him to the bed. Sinking down into the still warm sheets, he pulled her close, stroking her hair. He breathed in her familiar, enticing scent, enjoying the weight of her against him. Sakura tenderly stroked the side of his face, thumb tracing his lips before gently pressing her own to them. It wasn’t passionate or hungry, it was soothing, a comfort between two kindred souls.

He looked down at her, gaze tracing the features that he adored. Messy, pale pink locks framed her face. A faint dusting of freckles, courtesy of long hours spent under the sun while on missions, graced the bridge of her nose. His survey lingered on the slightly chapped lips that could melt his heart with a soft smile.

Yet, it was her spirit and character that truly drew him in, the compassion and strength that she possessed. She represented everything lovely in a world torn asunder by the worst flaws of humanity. Kakashi wished that he could lose himself in the jade depths of her eyes, erase the blood on his hands and wipe from memory the sins of his past. He wanted to drown in the light that was her, to banish the darkness inside of him with her smiles. To fill the empty void within him with her, her beautiful laugh, intoxicating smile, and endless capacity to care. To let her heal the jagged and broken pieces of his soul like she had done for so many of his physical injuries. To have her mend the wounds that ran deepest.

He thought of the first time that he had recognized her for the incredible woman that she had become. He’d been experiencing one of his low points when he had said something silly, idiotic really, but it was enough to make her laugh. Mirth and joy, so clearly evident, had taken over her features, even as her musical laughter rang forth.

His breath had caught, and he’d been unable to look away. He had felt a smile grow underneath his mask, even as his thoughts had lightened for the first time in too long. At least until she had responded, addressing him as _Kakashi-sensi_. He had hated when she called him that. Hated that it felt as if though he’d been kicked in the solar plexus every time the honorific slipped past her lips. Thinking about said lips—soft, pink, and oh-so expressive—and everything he would have liked to do, with and to them, had made him feel like the depraved lecher that he was. He’d been understandably stricken, but so much had changed since then.

“So,” Sakura asked, drawing him from his reverie, “are you going to tell me what was wrong?”

_She knows me so well._ Kakashi smiled. “I…felt lonely without you.”

“And now?”

“Never been better.”

Sighing happily, he tightened his arms around her, listening to the rain hit the window. He had been wrong when he thought that her apartment was his home, because it wasn’t her personal touches in every room that made him feel secure and grounded. It wasn’t even the countless hours spent together that caused these walls to bring him comfort. It wasn’t the building, but rather its occupant, that staved off his loneliness. As long as they were together it didn’t matter where they were, he would always have a place to call home. She was the one that filled him with the warmth of belonging.

It was _her_.

Sakura was his home.

 


	4. Carrying You With Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll admit, this is by far my favorite one-shot from this short collection. Hope you enjoy!

An overly persistent rock seemed to dig into his back no matter which way he turned. For some reason the hard ground below seemed particularly unforgiving to his aching body that night. What he wouldn’t give to be in a soft bed, a certain someone’s warmth seeping into him…

_I’m getting too old for this_ , Kakashi thought wearily.

Granted that wasn’t exactly true, considering that he was a shinobi in his prime with nearly three decades worth of experience under his metaphorical belt. Maybe it was just that his mentality or priorities had changed of late. Resisting the urge to sigh—after all, there were _far_ worse things than camping out in the forest—he left the overly warm confines of his sleeping bag. He knew that he needed to sleep, especially since the fighting they had engaged in earlier seemed to have taken its toll on everyone. However, it seemed that rest wouldn’t come easily to him that night.

He sat down near the fire, briefly drawing the attention of the man on watch. This time giving in to the urge to sigh, Kakashi reached into a pocket of his flak vest for his prized possession. Opening _Icha Icha Paradise_ , he turned to page forty-six. He pulled out a small photo that had been tucked inside the book. It nestled perfectly in the center of his palm; its edges had long since become worn. A slight tear called the top right corner home, and the surface’s sheen was dull from repeated handling. The remnants of a crease—painstakingly smoothed out by Jiraiya’s masterpiece—lent it additional character.

He traced his thumb gently along the porcelain cheek residing on the picture. Kakashi felt heartened and exhausted all at once as he gazed at Sakura’s smiling features. The flickering campfire cast a soft light over her image. The subtle, adoring look in her eyes got to him every time, even if it was only captured in a photo.

He was a shinobi. It was a way of life, willingly risking all to protect their village and country. Granted, he had never met a ninja that didn’t crave—no, _need_ —the rush that accompanied the dangerous lifestyle. They just weren’t cut out for the calm, ordinary life of a civilian. Kakashi had had more than his fair share of regrets over the years, but becoming a shinobi had never been one of them. It was in his blood, after all, and about the only thing he was good at.

Yet, he had never truly had something to lose until now. Sure, he had friends and teammates that he would mourn the loss of, but he had and would survive that. What he didn’t think he could survive was Sakura not returning alive from a mission. To never wake up with her in his arms again, or to simply enjoy her presence. Alternatively, he would never want to put her through the heartache of himself being killed in action. Yet, every mission that sent them outside the gates of the village was another chance that they might not return home to the other. Their chosen profession didn’t exactly lend itself to security and stability.

Kakashi looked back at the woman he loved, pale locks framing her face. She was so full of contradictions and contrasts. She possessed such delicate beauty alongside immense strength. Anyone who thought her frail or weak would quickly learn otherwise. She could destroy and level mountains or bring people back from the brink of death with her bare hands. Those same hands were just as likely to pummel him as they were to caress him tenderly. She had a fiery temper and an indomitable spirit.

Running his fingers over her smile one last time, he tucked the photograph back into the book with care.  Even as he was currently returning from a mission, he knew that Sakura would likely be doing the same. Typically, they would be sent out on missions in which the team was comprised of at least the two of them. Having a team include individuals that were romantically involved was a generally discouraged practice, but exceptions were made. Kakashi and Sakura complimented one another’s strengths and abilities, resulting in a flawless teamwork that pretty much ensured the success of a mission. They were both confident in the other’s capabilities to the point that worry for one another did not negatively interfere with the carrying out of a mission.

He looked up at the dark expanse of sky overhead, the scattering of stars making for a spectacular sight. He could only hope that those same stars were gazing down at her, finding the kunoichi alive and well wherever she was.

It had been two years since they had first admitted their feelings for one another and embarked on an actual relationship. Looking back, age differences, a former student-teacher affiliation, and all the other concerns that had initially greeted them meant nothing. Nothing was guaranteed for a shinobi, especially not a tomorrow. He never had, never would, nor ever be able to take advantage of her by supposedly abusing his position. The lives that they lead meant that worrying about the perceptions of observers was inconsequential.

All Kakashi cared about was getting back to her. Because after all the bloodshed and morally questionable actions that he had engaged in, she was the only thing that made him feel alive. Nothing else mattered at the end of the day. Only she mattered.

Critics be damned.

* * *

Ordinarily, Sakura didn’t mind rain. In fact, she enjoyed the somewhat frequent rainstorms that allowed for Konoha’s lush greenery. The clean, earthy scent that it washed the village in, and the lulling rhythm of water hitting windows and roofs. Even though she was well into her twenties, she couldn’t deny that she relished the opportunity every now and then to splash through puddles.

However, the climate of the aptly named Land of Water was grating on her nerves. For the total duration of their mission, it had rained nonstop. Heavy downpours that drowned out all other sounds and made it difficult to see beyond three feet in front of her. Misting rains that slowly, but surely, soaked through every inch of clothing until every inch of her was likewise sopping wet. Horizontal rains that cut through her no matter which way she positioned her gear bag.

She was miserable, and the rain merely compounded that fact. Sakura had been dispatched with an emergency medical unit to deal with sudden viral outbreaks in rural villages in the waterlogged nation. It was irrational to think that they could have saved all those that were infected. But…bearing witness to the large number of children that didn’t survive was something that even the most seasoned medic struggled with. To know that there was nothing within your power that could be done to help such innocent individuals…

Sakura quickly shook her head, trying to avoid going down that mental path, sending droplets of water flying from her hair. She took a deep breath before pulling her soaked coat tighter around herself. The chill in the air and rain seemed to have seeped into her bones, since she couldn’t seem to get warm at all.

She craved the comfort of _his_ arms. The way she felt utterly safe and cared for when wrapped up in his embrace, no matter where they were. He was the calm in a world consumed by chaos. She longed for the startling contrast that the tender warmth of being home with Kakashi provided in comparison to the harsh realities of missions full of violence or loss.

Yet, she would never strive to be anything less than the best kunoichi and mednin that she could be. It was a difficult way to live, true, but more than worth it in her opinion. She had long since dedicated her life to protecting her loved ones and the citizens of the Land of Fire. Whether it be with her fists, weapons, or healing abilities, she would defend those that could not do it for themselves. Even if she helped only one person, it made a difference. It would be enough. She would shoulder the burdens of the world so that others didn’t have to.

Her hand slipped into a pocket, cold-stiffened fingers grasping the black fabric that lay within. On restless nights out in the field, Sakura had developed the habit of burying her nose into the mask, inhaling the comforting scent of Kakashi. The pleasant notes of sandalwood, musk, and the outdoors would soothe her until she was able to drift off into much needed sleep.

Grip tightening around one of his old masks that she secretly had deemed her good luck charm, she wondered how he was. If he was trudging through snow or grudgingly dealing with bitter heat. If he was reading one of his numerous _Icha Icha_ volumes, though that seemed likely. If he had experienced any combat, and whether or not he was injured. Most of all, she wondered—and worried—if he was out of danger for the moment.

She glanced up at the heavens above, hoping to catch a glimpse of the stars, but they were hidden behind a heavy curtain of rain. Sakura sighed softly, regretting her inability to view them. It had always made her feel marginally better to look at the glittering stars, thinking that Kakashi might be gazing at them at the same moment. It made the distance keeping them apart not seem quite so vast.

A certain numbness seemed to have settled within her after closing so many lifeless eyes during the past two weeks. More than anything else she wanted Kakashi beside her. She wanted to hug the man she loved and then check him over, ensuring that he was hale and whole—questionable sanity notwithstanding. Then she wanted to bury herself into his chest, his arms around her. That was her safe haven, his embrace. Where the heat from his body could replace the chill that had settled within her, and his presence could banish the numbness in a way that only he could. It was the only place where she didn’t have to be strong, because he would always catch her. And when it was his turn to fall apart, she would be there to collect and mend the pieces.

Sloshing through the rain towards Konoha with the rest of her temporary team, Sakura filled her thoughts with Kakashi. Rubbing the cloth of his mask between her thumb and forefinger, she gradually realized that she no longer felt quite so cold.

           

 

 


End file.
